


Poggers!! Fortnite Real?!

by orphan_account



Category: Fortnite (Video Game), Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Horrible horrible crossover, Other, Post-Game AU, benrey is just vibing in gordon's gaming laptop, only tagged as ship because they might get a kissey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25088656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: So, basically, the only lore based event in Season 2 was a very sloppy copy of Half-Life plot featuring "resonance anomalies" and my little kinnie heart got inspired. Basically, Benry gets to be a malignant computer virus to another divorce dad energy character.
Relationships: Benrey & Midas, Benrey/Midas
Kudos: 11





	Poggers!! Fortnite Real?!

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to @autisticfreeman/still-doing-science for beta-reading this and putting up with my nonsense. 
> 
> Might continue this if I can think of some good lore.

The last thing Benrey remembered was darkness, the never ending whirl of an abyss of magenta and grey that signified that things had changed big time. There was no wave of peace, no restoration, no laughing off this death like it had done with countless others before. It was almost certain that being the big bad back there meant that this void was all it had left, yet, it was here, awake. 

Benrey sluggishly blinked, trying to adjust to the sharp violet sky that loomed angrily overhead. It was so used to that color being associating as a proxy thumbs up that to see it swirling in a formation of vicious storm clouds felt almost unnerving. Its eyes trailed down to its hands, a strange comfort to see its model as endearingly cryptid as ever despite a new found sanding of its rough edges into a more blocky GI Joe figure style. It could not however say the same for the grass its little balled fist had found themselves dug into. The grass was an almost gaudy green, more like Christmas food-dye than anything that should grow out of the Earth. The actual texture of the grass seemed to only exist in sparse patches that flickered in and out of existence at the edges of its peripherals. This all felt strangely familiar, like something it was artificially meant to recall or a now defunct Wikipedia article. Its eyes flicked up to look at the other discernable landmarks, a cartoony steep hill side, a few simple boulders, and a scrawny birch tree that looked more like a child's clay project upon closer inspection. Oh my goodness, it was in Fortnite.

Benrey racked its brain for some sort of reasonable explanation. It must still be on Feetman's stupid computer. It remembered some vague sentiment about Gordon wanting to be a video game streamer. It had compartmentalized it at the time as an embarrassingly bad attempt at flirting given the context of the much nobler ambitions of the rest of the science team, but it guessed that perhaps Gordon did have some desire to be an epic gamer that had developed after their days of playing in the sand and the dirt. He must have had other games on his laptops. It quietly wondered if this was on here for his fail son Joshua or if that was really the best he could do. I mean, would a little brand loyalty have killed him? Benrey guessed it didn't really matter seeing as at the very least it was no longer spiraling in a textureless void. The better question was why it was brought here at all.

Its eyes had slightly adjusted to the over saturated landscape that was its new home. This was when it started to notice how empty this place felt. From what it could scrape out of the extremely small pail that was its memory, Fortnite was an online multiplayer battle royale game. This place should be buzzing with human interaction, new people to playfully piss off and to annoy straight into open fire. Yet, here it was, seemingly alone again.

Well, alone was a bit of an overreaction. Based on a bit more exploration of the area, they had noticed that a few well-paced minutes of walking would lead it to where the seemed to upturn itself, creating a ring-like barrier around the miniscule island. The wall of ocean seemed to stretch on endlessly, or to be more accurate, Benrey had found it quite tiring to BBBBBBB into a subpar water generator with only an occasional brush by of a vibrant orange fish with vacant eyes for company. After a thorough bit of shaking itself off like Sunkist might, it decided that it had to approach the only other viable option: heading straight the center of the storm.

The walk towards the center of the miniscule map felt far longer. Perhaps it was their water logged boots. Perhaps it was the strong gust that came from the omnipresent storm. Most likely, however, was that Benrey had this pit of its stomach feeling that something awful was going to happen. It supposes that stealing a boat perched on the recently consumed shoreline would have been far more effective in ripping the Band-Aid that was facing its purpose here off, but then again, it doubted Garfield Kart counted as qualified driving experience. So Benrey trudged on, boots squelching against the unsettlingly picturesque greenery. It was only when it got within a few meters of the eye of the storm that if finally saw it.

Out of the deceptively shallow moat that obscured the center of the map were five unfathomably tall spires that each had a node on the end that resembled a plasma lamp you might find in a museum gift shop. Each spire's node seemed to be bleeding out flashes of dark blue, purple, and black lightening that fed into the imposing hurricane formation that it was heading right into. It was almost like- scratch that- it was exactly like the resonance cascade it had witnessed being created earlier but at a much greater intensity. The person who created this must have either been a genius or absolutely mad. Knowing that either extreme could be quickly proven true weighed on Benrey as it pressed on into the unknown.  
After carefully wading through the moat, well as careful as Benrey could be, it found itself in the smoldering ruins of what looked to be some type of government building. Well, it guessed at government building seeing the amount of imperial white cinderblock laying in fragmented chunks and what looked to be like the barely held together remnants of a rigid corner office beyond a foggy pool of something reminiscent of Black Mesa Powerade. It laughed in spite of itself at the observation. What was it so worried about? This game was no less chaotic than where it had come from, and once it cleared up the small matter of what the problem was, it would have all sorts of people to play with. 

That's all Benrey really craved. It just wanted someone to play with. It made sense seeing as it operated practically like a virus, hoping around in game files as it started to develop a sense of self- to become truly aware. It had absorbed this idea of games and community as essentially its job despite labels like guard or get away driver that were thrown at it. It lived to play and above all else to play with other people. It never quite understood why people never seemed to understand that's why it goofed around so much. It was just messing around! Hopefully this new crowd would appreciate it, contingent on finding the way to reset whatever was off with this map.

It strode forward, skirting around the Powerade pool as it was not in the mood to check if its powers were still fully operational. It trudged to the corner office, suspecting it still standing was an intentional hint at its objective. There was a small vent on the office's left exterior wall. On instinct, it crouched down to get a peep through the vents. It wasn't the only one with that idea.

It wasn't sure what it had expected to see when it had peaked through the cracks in the metal cover, but it certainly was not a vaguely human face staring back at it. Its immediate reaction was to jolt away before twisting and scooting back, using its back to barricade the weak vent cover. It was safe for this moment. Time to do something Benrey was not well known for: thinking things through.

Benrey tried to slowly replay the scene in its mind, not a reliable HD scanner but it would work for now. It had not escaped it that the figure had some charm, the exact opposite type of divorced dad vibe that Gordon had. Something about that annoying perfectly styled jet black hair, the slightly disheveled button down, the gold tinged tattoos that had spilled out from under said shirt to make the figure's pale skin look like a pristine canvas, even the evident scar over one of their eyes- it all painted this picture of a once down on their luck wedlock dad who had found much better things jet setting on business trips that was lucky if they made it home for Christmas visitation rights. It had to admit, it wasn't a bad look, but anything that wouldn't remind it of Gordon would probably count as a good look right now. The figure looked all too perfect which seemed to make sense seeing the little yellow exclamation point that had darted over their head when they locked eyes. It must be an ai, a pretty advanced one too to have been here, maybe even self aware like itself. Thinking of which, shouldn't have even a rudimentary ai have responded to being alerted like that?

It was in that brief final moment of lucidness that Benrey felt the sharp jab of someone attempting to kick out the vent cover. The next moment it found itself once again staring into a void of purple hues, turtled on its back on the cold concrete. This state did not last nearly as long as it quickly was interrupted in its trance by the cold and sterile voice of the figure it had seen through the slits just moments ago.

"State your business in The Agency. It is not as if anyone will notice your disappearance in these resonance anomalies if you do not comply," the words, despite their flat disinterested tone from an even more steely figure than it had anticipated, were reassuring it was engaged in something at least somewhat real.

It had went to reply but found its mouth already slightly ajar and spilling out sweet voice from the immense relief it felt finally having some sentient interaction. The trickle of lavender with an occasional note of pink swirled around the figure in a loose cocoon like shape, a sign that it was more than okay with this interruption.

The figure, which it just had noticed seemed to have a thin sheen of gold coating its delicate hands, made a face best categorized as neutral displeasure although it was hard to tell with how purposefully limited they were in puppeteering their model. They reached a slender arm out and poked a finger into a nearby orb of sweet voice as if to pop it like a bubble. Benrey watched on with an almost smug expression on its face up until the orb thudded on its rib as a polished little sphere of gold.

In true Benrey fashion, its reply was disastrously influenced by laid back gamer vernacular on top of its typical incoherence, "Woah. Poggers, dude. Fortnite real."

If the slant, icy figure had a rebuttal, it seemed to die on their lips in favor of a curt nod followed by a dry observation, "And I take it you got washed ashore after the storm had its way with you."

Benrey's immediate response was to blurt out a "wuh?" before its audio processing caught up to it. It flashed another nearly smug grin at it as it replied, "No. The brain rot was all home-brewed."

"Oros really is a merciless thing, but I suppose you were assigned here for a reason despite appearing utterly incompetent," the slimly built ai mused aloud, "I suppose I will have to make a use for you, even if it is just as another trophy head."

It was not unfamiliar with threats like this, but it was certainty odd to see them this close up and delivered by someone who seemed both strong and smart enough to carry them out unlike any of the US Military men back at Black Mesa. It knew that an incoherent threat or badgering for an ID would have been better, but the strain of today had already eaten away at its proud ownership of 5 IQ. Taking another appraising look at the figure in front of it, it mumbled, "Fortnite real."

The figure glanced down in return and seemed to flash what must be counted as the fastest and smallest upturn of a smile in computer history. As soon as they had looked at it, they were already glancing away, accessing the damage of the resonance anomalies. They both stood there in a moment if silence for the brand of the chaos they knew before as if already knowing how they were going to be pushed together into a brand new kind of adventure that would have each other at the other's throat.

"Fortnite real," the mysterious figure let out like a drag from a cigarette as they acknowledged how their fates had already intertwined.


End file.
